Lets skip the anger and move straight into rage.

One of my cats is gone.

From the looks of it, some fuckhead took my cat. Who the hell just up and takes someone else's cat?!? Now admittedly, it is a particularly unique cat, but nevertheless.....good grief. Heh. One might try to tell me that perhaps my cat ran away or suddenly became up close and personal with the underside of a truck. Doubtful, especially since the Beast admits he saw someone messing with it earlier.

I'm not the fondest of cats, but if there's one thing you DON'T do is...

Take. Something. That. Is. Mine.

I'm one of extreme possessiveness. In elementary school I couldn't even throw away a broken pencil because of the mere thought that someone might take it from the garbage. (Which begs the obvious question of why I would even care if I had it in the garbage to begin with...) Things haven't really changed over the 18 years of my existance. I may not brood over the fate of a pencil, but hell forbid anyone touch anything I'm still using. I even hit someone once for messing with my CD player. The Brat, being the Amighty Kleptomatic that she is will barely glance at something of mine without express permission.

I believe I've made my point.

So of course, my day has been spent not worrying over the fate of my cat, but fuming in intense hatred of the person who had the audacity to even glance at my feline "possession". Damn them. They've ruined a perfectly good day of apathy.

See everyone? This is why you should never own pets if you're over possessive. Let that be a lesson to you.